Masque: A Hellfire Club Erotique

by Reed, Kristabel

  He withdrew and she felt Sebastian’s release, dimly saw Julien lean over her and kiss Sebastian before he, too, cried out. She felt no jealously at witnessing that kiss, no shame in the pleasure they shared. Reaching behind her, Olivia touched Julien’s arm, tugging it across her body. She needed that connection to them.

  Exhausted, body humming, Olivia closed her eyes and drifted to sleep, Sebastian holding her to him, Julien’s warm body behind her. Protected.

  Chapter Six

  Julien opened his eyes, Olivia’s intoxicating scent all around him. He shifted, and her warm body curled tighter into his. She continued to sleep, utterly exhausted from a most pleasurable afternoon’s indulgence.

  Careful not to disturb her, he tugged the blanket up and climbed out of bed. Stretching, he looked to where Sebastian dressed.

  “Deserting us?” Julien asked, nonchalantly as he idly looked for a robe. Not immediately finding one, he sauntered to where Sebastian stood and waited, arms folded over his naked chest.

  Sebastian smiled, that wicked flash of one that never failed to arouse. He closed the distance between them and kissed Julien, hard, quick. “Never. I’m going to check on our arrangements to leave,” he said, shrugging on his jacket. “I don’t care who I have to bribe or kill, I want to make sure we’re still among the first. Especially now.”

  He looked down at Olivia, and Julien followed his gaze to where their lover still slept. She looked young there, so unlike the wanton woman who screamed in their arms not an hour ago. Need for her shot through him.

  With a quiet chuckle, Sebastian shook his head and moved for the door. “I’ll return shortly. Make sure she doesn’t leave alone.”

  Raising a taunting eyebrow, Julien didn’t bother to answer that. He knew Sebastian worried for Olivia, more so now given what they’d discovered she planned for Rousseau. The door closed quietly behind Sebastian. Julien, hard for Olivia, crossed back to the bed.

  Removing the blanket he’d just covered her with, Julien gently ran his hand down her hip. The tie for her stockings had come undone, and he rolled each one down her leg, kissing the soft skin as he did so. She shifted but didn’t wake. Taking her into his arms, Julien breathed in her scent, one hand caressing over her belly, up to her breasts, back down to her core.

  What allure did this woman hold that caused every shred of cynicism he possessed to vanish? She couldn’t be more than twenty, still untouched despite, or because of, the revolution. If Louise hadn’t hidden her, if the Hellfire Club hadn’t forbidden new members, Olivia would have been married by eighteen, trapped in a loveless marriage to a fellow club member, perhaps the mistress to another.

  She’d long ago have experienced all the wickedly selfish acts so many of them indulged in on a daily basis.

  However it had happened, whatever hand fate played in this, Olivia was none of that. And she was theirs. This woman in his arms had no guile, no deviousness. She may have been raised to survive the king’s court and all the backstabbing treachery that once populated those gilded halls, but that was no more.

  Now, her emotions reflected in her whiskey-brown eyes for all to see. He’d noticed that from the first moment Sebastian had found her in the main hall asking for, of all people, Rousseau. Of course Julien understood her reasoning, but that made it all the more dangerous. The Hellfire Club was based on the treachery of court; the people who inhabited the Club experts at seeking and manipulating even the barest hint of emotion.

  He cupped her breast, feeling the weight of it, watched the nipple harden. Gently rolling her nipple between his fingers, Julien felt his blood heat at her reaction. His cock hardened, but he didn’t move. Her body needed the rest, taken as she had been. Moving to her other nipple, he felt Olivia’s breathing quicken, saw her legs widen just slightly.

  Yes, even her body’s reactions were without guile. It was why Sebastian had so easily read her plans to exact revenge against Rousseau. A true innocent, Olivia would play no games with them as so many others had.

  He wanted to protect her from the duplicity of the Club. The treachery and betrayal he’d had to survive on the Parisian streets. It hadn’t been easy for him; he’d lost everything after the fall of the Bastille. Since that night, everyone he’d encountered seemed viler than the last.

  Until Sebastian.

  Because of that, because of his own experiences, Julien wanted to protect the innocence of her. He wanted to have her. To indulge in that innocence as he never had with another.

  Julien slid down the bed, hands light on her skin. She shuddered and began to rouse. The fragrance of her arousal greeted him, and Julien knelt between her legs, hands still caressing her body. With a shuddering breath, she woke, fingers curling into the bedding as she struggled to sit up.

  He offered her a truly roguish smile and thrust a finger into her wet heat. Realization widened her eyes a heartbeat before arousal lightened them to that beautiful whiskey-brown. Olivia bit her lip to keep from crying out, but he would have none of that.

  “Let go, Olivia,” he coaxed, kissing up her body, fingers slowly moving within her. “Let yourself feel everything. Every touch.” He kissed her shoulder. “Every sensation.” His other hand pinched her nipple. “Every taste.”

  Julien kissed her then, letting sensation seep into her, build her up. He wanted her pliant in his arms, a willing partner as they made love. Her hands clenched at the bed, but he felt her move, shudder. Then her hands were on his shoulders, clutching at him, nails digging into his skin. She kissed him back, arching into him.

  This was different. Yes, he enjoyed her body, her taste. Her submission. But he wanted more than just that; Julien found he cared. Cared about her pleasure more than his own. Whereas he normally took, except when with Sebastian, now Julien only wanted to give. Wanted Olivia to feel every sensation, every pleasurable moment.

  She shuddered beneath him and wrapped her legs about his hips. Julien struggled for control, but it was no use. He thrust into her, felt her moan as her orgasm washed over her. He moved slowly, building her up again and again. This was about her, and Julien marveled that in giving such pleasure, he felt more. Felt her skin touching his, felt her breath fan against his shoulder, her nails raking down his back as she screamed his name.

  He held onto his last shred of control and withdrew from her body, spilling his seed on her belly. Collapsing onto her, Julien rolled them until she lay cradled in his arms. Even now, as he held her after the pleasure, it felt right. Unrehearsed.

  Julien knew it wouldn’t be easy to convince Olivia to stay with them. But as she curled against him, her breathing even once more as she drifted off to sleep, he pushed away his surprise at himself. He wanted her to stay with them and was determined to find a way to persuade her.

  Once again tugging the blankets up to cover her, he kissed her temple and went to find paper and quill. He didn’t want her leaving, searching for them and discovering who knew what. Or who—Julien suspected Rousseau still lurked, enjoying the many pleasures to be found in the Club.

  Julien hastily dressed and went to seek out Sebastian. There was still much to see to for their escape from Paris. Closing the door behind him, Julien made sure the damp wood latched firmly. A door that easily opened signaled willingness, an invitation, and he took no chances with Olivia.

  Walking down the labyrinth catacomb passages, he made a mental note to have Olivia’s things moved into Sebastian’s rooms. His, too, Julien supposed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d stayed in his own assigned rooms. Had he given the space to another member? Julien shrugged at the unimportance of that and continued on, passed the entrance with its tapestry décor, the dining rooms still filled with succulent foods.

  The hallways were dim despite the beeswax candles lining their walls. He nodded to several members, all now unmasqued. With luck, they’d leave tomorrow, the next day at the latest. And for the first time in over two months he’d see daylight. Julien hated this dim shadowed-filled cavern; he was a cre
ature of light, not gloom.

  In fact, Sebastian had, somewhere, found additional candles for their rooms solely for Julien.

  He turned a sharp corner to where the meeting rooms lay. Surprised he hadn’t heard their shouting echo along the rock walls, Julien took a moment to sort it all out. Sebastian leaned menacingly over another, clearly intimidating the man; two appointed leaders stood behind a wide cherry desk, clearly as a barrier against some of the more physical threats.

  “I shall not be seen in the countryside of France garbed in a prisoner’s attire.” One member shouted, gesturing wildly.

  Another stalked for the desk, shaking his fists at the organizers. He looked as if he planned to leap over the desk and throttle them. The room was barely controlled chaos.

  “If you don’t like our arrangements,” Bernard shouted, holding his hands up for a calm that seemed unlikely to descend on the room. “You may change them amongst yourselves. We’ll make note of any changes, but nothing else.”

  Sebastian looked up and caught his eye but the fleeting glance he offered told Julien all he needed to know. He seemed to have reached an agreement with the man, Pierre, and passed him a small pouch. Pierre nodded, obviously relieved, and handed Sebastian a small linen card.

  The smile on Sebastian’s face confirmed this transaction and Julien nodded. He turned from the pandemonium and looked down the hall. From here he couldn’t possibly see their rooms; the meeting rooms lay very deep in the catacombs, but he looked anyway. Wanted to make sure no one disturbed Olivia. That she remained safe.

  Leaning against the rock walls, he watched the side corridor that led to their rooms, and waited for Sebastian.

  “I see you’ve got what you wanted,” Julien said with a slight nod at Sebastian’s triumphant smile.

  “What we wanted,” Sebastian corrected. “We leave tomorrow afternoon as the third group, straight out the gates of Paris.”

  “I presume we’re no longer shackled prisoners?” Julien asked, though he already knew the answer.

  “Wine merchants,” Sebastian said, and they started back for their rooms. “Carrying empty barrels as we leave Paris after a very successful sale. Olivia travels as your wife.”

  Julien snorted at that and wondered how Olivia would feel about their new disguises. “And you? Are you the perverted uncle traveling with the young couple?”

  Sebastian growled but reluctantly nodded. “Your uncle and the owner of the vineyard. As my nephew and sole heir, you must learn the trade.”

  “You’re much too handsome,” Julien retorted, “to be a stodgy uncle.”

  He shot Julien an amused look and detoured them into the dining room. Apparently he was as reluctant to let Olivia leave their rooms as Julien.

  “I doubt you came to find me because you were curious as to our arrangements,” Sebastian said.

  Julien waited until they once more headed for their rooms, where there was less of a chance of being overheard. “No,” Julien admitted and nodded at a small alcove.

  “You wish to discuss Olivia?” Sebastian asked. “Or is there more on your mind?”

  “I like what you said,” Julien admitted. “About Olivia being my wife and you our uncle.”

  Even in the dim candlelight, Julien saw Sebastian’s eyebrow raised in question. With a shrug he continued, “I like this, the three of us. And I suspect you do as well.”

  “She isn’t a stray from the streets that you can just adopt,” Sebastian said quietly. “I presume you wish to keep her?”

  Julien flashed a smile. “And if I do?”

  Clearly he’d caught his lover off guard. “I never thought of you as the type to want marriage,” Sebastian said. “Why suddenly so romantic? We’ve had other women in our bed.”

  He was quiet for a moment then with a sigh, admitted, “Olivia is different. She feels different, tastes different. And I can’t seem to detach myself from this…need for her.”

  “That was very swift, Julien,” Sebastian replied, silent warning in his voice. “But you’ve always been the obsessive type.”

  “Only once before,” Julien shot back with a look at the other man. Only with Sebastian had he ever been like that.

  Sebastian’s hand drifted over Julien’s face, a light touch between lovers, there and gone before anyone else may have noticed. He shook his head, silent for several beats. Then with a heavy sigh, he nodded. “I’m in agreement. I think she’d make the perfect, permanent, addition to our bed. But we need to make sure that’s what she desires.”

  Julien merely smiled at that. “I’m fairly certain we can convince her,” he said confidently.

  Shaking his head, though not in denial, Sebastian motioned for them to continue back toward their rooms. And Olivia.

  However, when they arrived, the room was empty. Julien cursed and stalked to the bed where the note he’d left her, admonishing her to stay put, lay in the center of it. She’d obviously seen it. And ignored it.

  “Where the hell is she?”

  Chapter Seven

  “Where the hell is she?” Sebastian repeated.

  He glared at Julien though Sebastian knew it wasn’t his fault. Damn that woman! She truly was Louise’s niece—both stubborn, obstinate women who never listened. Julien crumpled the note he’d left for her, no doubt admonishing her to stay here in the rooms.

  Turning sharply on his heel, Sebastian stalked into the corridor. Fear had his blood running cold. There were many places she could have gone, but he’d check her rooms first. Did she not understand how seriously they took her safety? Damn woman, she couldn’t just wander off as if she was free and safe to do so.

  The door was closed tight, but Sebastian didn’t let that stop him. None of the doors in the Hellfire Club had locks and he used that to his advantage. Twisting the knob, he slammed the door against the opposite wall and stormed in, Julien beside him.

  The young servant girl squeaked at them, bobbed a quick curtsey, and fled. Olivia, clutching her gown to her breasts, frowned. She looked between the pair of them, but Sebastian detected no fear or anger, simply curiosity. Probably as to why they’d stormed into her private rooms.

  She cleared her throat and straightened, trying not to look awkward in a gown only half buttoned up. But then she tossed her head and calmly waited.

  “We expected you to wait in our rooms,” Julien said in that silky voice that contradicted the anger and fear coming off him.

  “Yes.” She nodded agreeably. “I read your note. But I wanted to freshen and redress. Why are you so angry?”

  “We’re getting close to departing Paris,” Sebastian said, biting back his own anger and fear. “And must be careful from here on out.” He closed the distance between them and caressed her cheek, the soft warmth of her skin easing some of the cold tension that had coiled through him when he couldn’t immediately find her. “And we want to be careful with you.”

  Olivia’s alabaster skin flushed, and Sebastian smiled slightly. Her eyes held his, but he could see them lighten to the whiskey gold they did when she was aroused. Her thick black eyelashes swept down, hiding her thoughts from him for only a moment. Sebastian tilted her chin up, but she already met his gaze. No, she was no shrinking violet no matter what she had or hadn’t experienced in life.

  Julien moved to the bed, and Sebastian watched him pick up the letter Louise had written. It lay among the few things Olivia had decided to take. He didn’t read the contents, but held it out to her.

  “Is this what you want for your future?” Julien asked evenly, no bite of mockery, not a hint of sarcasm. Simple inquisitiveness.

  Sebastian watched Olivia, although she had half-turned to face Julien. Now, her eyes riveted to the letter. He wanted to know that answer as well. Needed to know her answer more than he believed possible.

  She looked from the letter to Julien then back to Sebastian. Turning back to Julien she stayed where she was, with Sebastian’s hand still cupping her cheek and answered him. “I’m not sure,” she a
dmitted quietly. “There aren’t many options for me.”

  With a little pressure on her cheek, he turned her so she could see as well as hear the sincerity in his tone. “There is another option,” he insisted quietly. “You can remain with us.”

  He could see her surprise at his statement, as if it hadn’t occurred to her. Sebastian wondered if she truly thought he and Julien went around deflowering every young woman they encountered.

  “Is that possible?” she asked, but he saw the hope in her eyes. “I mean…” she shook her head, stumbling over her words. “Would we have to live sequestered in a small apartment? As Louise and I were here in Paris?”

  Sebastian heard both the wistfulness and the anxiety. How long had Louise kept her in the godforsaken apartment? Two years? Three? No matter that she tried to disguise it, Olivia couldn’t hide how she wanted to be free from that—what a toll staying hidden had taken on her. Before answering, he took a moment to find the words to reassure her. It wasn’t as if he planned to announce to all of London, with their dreary and dull ideals of how life should be lived, of their ménage.

  He drew her to him and asked, “Can you see yourself living with this secret? With both of us in your bed?”

  Eyes wide, Olivia shook her head in denial. Sebastian didn’t know if it was denial over the situation or being with the two of them. Unwilling to push, he leaned down and kissed her. Tasted the innocence, the blossoming passion as she kissed him back.

  “You don’t have to answer now,” he said. “But you will have to answer soon.”

  She gave a silent nod.

  Julien stepped up behind her and loosened the half undone laces of her gown. It slipped easily from her shoulders too pool at her feel He placed a soft kiss on her neck as Sebastian watched, drank in the sight of his beautiful lovers. Olivia’s eyes half closed, her arms falling to her sides as Julien slowly slid off her chemise and she stood exposed to them.